


Consurgo

by astraeus (orphan_account)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, General depictions of violence, Gore, Hell, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-20
Updated: 2013-12-20
Packaged: 2018-01-05 08:05:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1091565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/astraeus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Creatures born of fire do not fear the flame.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Consurgo

When you were ripped apart, you felt everything. Teeth not sharp enough to rip the skin right away, digging trenches into your flesh. The teeth and the claws that seemed never ending turned your body into a new landscape. No longer are you rolling hills and mountains, strong and unwavering. Instead you are caverns and pools. Marshes made gummy with slime. You are not strong, not in contest to the creatures tearing apart your body. It seems due to last until the universe ends and everything ceases to exist. Your body has become feeling and all you are is pain and regret and mistakes and it’s never ending still until the world goes black.

You don’t see black because you do not have eyes but it feels black. It feels empty and maybe this void is worse than the tearing because at least with the hounds, you knew what was coming. You’re floating in endlessness until you’re slammed back into a flesh and blood body, strung up and gouged with hooks that sear white-hot and blister the skin where they enter and exit you. There is an evil cackle from nowhere specific. The laughter sounds evil, but not like the evil you spent 30 years exterminating. It’s pure evil like some primordial thing that heaved itself out of blackness and into the light. It is evil like something that drips sludge and contaminates everything it comes into contact with down to the very core. The laughter twists around you like a giant snake, winds its way around you until it pries open your mouth and sneaks down your throat. The evil laugher is inside of you and it’s turning your bones into slime and your organs are eroding away because you are just a man and this laughter is stronger than you will ever be. You scream. You scream for your brother, alone and being driven insane because you failed and you left him. You scream for your mother, because you failed her; your screams echo for your father, who gave his soul for yours and you gambled it away like a two-cent piece of junk. The screams push the evil thing out of your body and the tension recedes for only a split second before there’s a razor set to your skin.

You stare and stare at the sharp blade pressing into your skin, a tiny bead of ruby blood surrounding the point. You tear your eyes away and look up to meet a pair of eyes that are deep, unfathomably so, but they are empty and dusted with cobwebs. The eyes are eerie and foul and they speak. They say that this is what you are going to become. After years and years of twisting and stabbing and breaking, this is what you will be. Evil and vacant, unquestioning. You thrash and scream and the laughter is back and it enters through your belly and leaks out your eyes and ears until all you can see is sludge.

Then the carving starts. The blades cut incisions into your skin, over and over again until you resemble a carcass and not a human. The pain never ends and your blood never stops pouring, but you are still coherent. You know enough to see that this is true torture. Pure and like nothing that exists on Earth. The blood from your body is never ending, and that’s probably a trick of the place. They want you bathing in your own gore, another humiliation to add to the list of tortures they have in store for you.  
One day, the eyes peel your skin away until it piles in ribbons at your feet and you are a throbbing mass of musculature and veins that still pump blood.

Another day, he slices into your abdomen and turns you inside out. He pulls your intestines slowly and they seem to go on for miles, like there’s no end to them.  
And one day, you break. He’s doing intricate things to your eyeballs that could be considered art if it wasn’t the most unendurably painful thing that’s happened to you in the ten thousand days that you’ve been chained here. So you scream. Your shrieks echo and they speak of surrender. You’ll do it. You will do anything he says as long as this will end, the chain of torture and entrails that stretch from your first day here and into the last dying light of all that is.  
And the laughter is back. It goes on until you can feel it in your brain, the place where nothing here has ever broken into.

Until today.

The laughter bounces around your skull for hours and it seems like it’s never going to end. Until it does. And then the flames come. They come instantly, like someone twisted a knob from low to high. The fire licks at your skin until it melts and one layer of you is gone. The flames start their work on the next layer and your muscles are screaming until they’re gone too and by now you’re just a skeleton. All you have left is your bones and even that is being incinerated. The eyes are turning you into a new creature, a creature fit to work in this pit of mindless torture.

And now you are the eyes and you’re carving up some soul. You don’t know their crime, nor do you care. You’re ripping off their scalp and you’re laughing and now you’re the sludge that is contaminating everything and you do this for three thousand days until a light that is foreign and does not belong appears in front of you. The light grips a shoulder that you didn’t know you had and it scorches you, unlike any heat you’ve experienced here or on earth. This heat is holy and divine and not of this planet or even this dimension. You can feel the light pulsating and it feels like touching a star and you are going supernova. The light drags you upward and its energy combined with the heat of the flames surrounding the pit is too much and you are engulfed by blackness.

You wake up in a pine box, claw your way through tight packed dirt, and when you emerge from the Earth, you are holy terror with eyes that burn like fire. Your walk is determined and your gait is steady. You are not the same man that was torn apart. You are a creature born of fire and you no longer fear the flame.


End file.
